


Payment

by articcat621



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Self-Harm, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 00:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11301876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/articcat621/pseuds/articcat621
Summary: Hermione is left alone after the War. Can she cope with her actions? Will she ever be able to truly forgive herself? Who will be there to help her?





	1. Chapter One: Words Are Useless

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Not beta'd, so please excuse any lingering mistakes. This will be an angst-filled ride, but I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: JKR owns the world and characters of Harry Potter, not me. I'm not making any money from the posting of this story. I also don't own FFXIII, from which the quotation at the beginning comes from (and which services as inspiration for this story).

**Chapter One: Words Are Useless**

_"And what if that gets people around you involved? What happens when your actions end up ruining someone's life? What if someone dies? What then? How do you pay for what you've done?"_

Hermione sighed. Her heart ached, but there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. She closed her eyes, wishing the tears would stop. She had been crying for days. 

It had been three days since the battle. She had failed everyone. By trying to protect Harry, Ron had been killed, and it was all her fault. She watched as the light left his eyes. She loved Ron, she had always loved Ron. And he died, without every knowing it because she never had the courage to tell him.

She slammed her fist on the table in anger. She was alone, utterly alone in her misery. Her parents were still in Australia, and she wasn't even sure if she should restore their memories or not. Would they even forgive her? Hermione wasn't so sure that they would.

_Forgiveness_. That was something she dare not ask for. She was at fault for the death of her two best friends. She couldn't save either of them, no matter how hard she had tried. It was her stupid plan that got them all in trouble. 

She continued to sob – she didn’t know how she would make it right.

Hermione got up and walked over to the window. Looking outside, she sighed deeply. Her throat hurt from all the screaming she had done. Her eyes burned from all the crying and lack of sleep. She felt empty inside.  
Turning her attention back to the table, she looked at the letters scattered across it. Many different people had written to her, many of them asking for her to come join them. No one blamed her, but she blamed herself. The guilt and heartache weren't something she could get past. 

She couldn't pay for what she did. For what she was at fault with...

She wrote everyone the same response. _There is nothing that can make something like that right again. When someone's dead, when someone's gone, words are useless_. 

That's how Hermione felt. Utterly lost and useless. 

She mailed her responses with the barn owl that had been waiting for one. With a shaky breath, she headed upstairs to the bathroom. She ran the tub, undressing as the warm water filled to the brim. She climbed in.

Hermione glanced at the razor that balanced on the edge of her bathtub. She inched to run the blade against her skin, to feel the pain and freedom that came with harming herself…

Glancing at her wrists, she saw the various scars that already decorated her once flawless skin.

"It's all my fault…" she whispered, reaching up and dragging her hands over her face.

Every time she closed her eyes, what happened that day flashed before her. Harry and she had been duelling Voldemort. They had gained the upper hand, all the Horcruxes destroyed! Victory had been within their reach.

Ron's scream had filled the air. Without thinking, she had turned towards the sound. Fenrir had been attacking Ron – mauling him viciously. She had wanted to run to him – to save him if she could. But Hermione knew that in that moment, Harry needed her more. He wouldn’t be able to defeat Voldemort without her help. With tears in her eyes, she turned her attention back to Voldemort, Ron's pleads filling her ears.

So distracted, she didn’t see the Killing Curse that Voldemort had cast her way. Harry had, unfortunately, and he pushed her out of the way at the last moment to save her life.

Everyone screamed in horror as Harry fell to the ground, struck by the Killing Curse that was meant for Hermione. She had stood, frozen in shock and horror as Voldemort returned his attention to her. 

Kingsley had moved up behind Voldemort, killing him as he was distracted by his win over Harry. Kingsley was a hero.

Hermione let out a strangled sob. Her two best friends were dead because of her. She could have saved Ron. She could have been more focused on the duel at hand, so Harry wouldn't have needed to save her. She should have been stronger, faster…

Her resolve crumbled as she reached for her razor.

_It's all my fault_.


	2. Chapter Two: I Love You, Ronald Weasley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the emotional angst.

**Chapter Two: I Love You, Ronald Weasley**

When Hermione awoke the next morning, she didn’t feel any better. Not that she expected that she would.

With a tired sigh, she got up and out of her bed. She got dressed – her movements slow. She was going to visit Ron's grave today. The thought made her want to sit down and cry, but she willed herself to move forward. She couldn’t ignore the feeling in her chest. 

Once ready, she gripped her wand tightly and Disapparated to the meadow that was far from the Burrow. It was a peaceful area – quiet. 

With a broken heart, she collapsed to her knees, overwhelmed with her grief.

Hermione stared at the marble white tomb, tears flooding her eyes and streaming down her face. She reached out, her fingers brushing the cold marble as she traced his name.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, I am so sorry," she whispered, choking on her words and her tears. "I never wanted you to die… I never wanted any of this to happen. It's all my fault that you're dead…" She paused, trying to catch her breath. "I know you won't forgive me, I wouldn’t forgive me either. I could have saved you. I should have saved you." She paused, a strangled sob escaping her lips. "I just needed to tell you that I…" She grasped at the ground beneath her, her fingers digging into the dirt. "I loved you, Ron, and I always will. You were everything to me, and I'm so sorry that you died before I was able to tell you." She sniffed. "I think you knew, though, deep down. I think you loved me, too."

Hermione sniffled and wiped away some of her tears.

"Remember our first year? You were such a git, but then you and Harry saved me from the troll. I was so grateful then, and we became such good friends. Second year, you were still an arse, but I loved your company anyways. I'll never forget waking up from petrification – seeing you and Harry made my heart swell with such warmth." Hermione smiled softly, though the tears still fell. "You were so jealous of Lockhart, though I don’t know why, as he could never hold a candle to you." She took a deep breath before continuing. "Third year was good. I remember holding your hand tightly during Care of Magical Creatures when Buckbeak almost attacked Harry. I remember crying onto your shoulder, and you holding me, as we thought that Buckbeak was killed. I remember that fear that gripped my heart as I watched Sirius drag you under the Whomping Willow. I was so terrified that we would lose you that night. I'm sorry, too, that Harry and I couldn’t take you into the past with us, or tell you the truth about what we did that night."

Hermione paused, taking a moment to try and collect her thoughts. She moved on, continuing her rambling.

"Fourth year, you were even more of a git than ever before. That was the year I really fell for you, I think. You were so jealous that I went to the Yule Ball with Krum. It wasn't my fault you were too slow to ask me though, Ron." She paused. "That year, everything changed. I remember holding onto you when Harry returned with Cedric's body. The battle at the Ministry? I was terrified. You were attacked by those brains… Sirius died… Voldemort nearly killed Harry again." She shook her head. "Sixth year, I was so mad at you. You threw yourself at Lavender, breaking my heart in the process, but still, you didn’t know that I cared for you then, so I suppose I only have myself to blame."

Hermione took another deep breath, knowing this would be the hardest.

"This past year, it had changed me. I'm still not sure if it's for the best or not, but I suppose I'll see in time. I was so mad at you for leaving me and Harry. We needed you, Ron, and you just left us. It broke my heart. I cried myself to sleep every day after you were gone. But you came back to us, and that's all that matters in the end. I know what the locket said to you, and that wasn't true at all, Ron. Harry never held my heart, you did. It was always you. It's my fault you died, Ron, and I'm so sorry." Her voice cracked – she felt like she was going to be ill. "I wish I had saved you, so I could pull you into my arms and kiss you. I wish I had told you after all these years how I felt. You mean the world to me. And I'm so sorry for letting you down."

She collapsed forward, lying on the ground as her grief consumed her. She cried and cried, unsure as to how she could still produce tears after the past few days. 

Once she was able to collect herself, she shakily stood.

"Ron Weasley, you held my heart until the very end. I wish I could make things right between us again, but I know that I can't. Nothing will make you come back. I know that. I just hope that I am strong enough to forgive myself, but I doubt that I am."

She turned to walk away, but stopped, whispering, "I love you, Ronald Weasley." She took a deep breath and Apparated away, not noticing the person who had been watching her the entire time.


End file.
